Page 10 of Sweet on You
“Just think about it. I can give you about a month. Otherwise, I’ll need to list it officially with a broker and then, let’s face it, they’ll take five to ten percent. If you buy the place, we can share the savings in commissions, and I’ll know my building is going to a good guy. And you wouldn’t have to worry about a new owner kicking you out when your lease is up in a couple of months. It’s a win-win.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate that. I’ll… I’ll think about it,” I said.
“Good. And we should all go out for drinks sometime. You, me, James and Ronnie.”
I gulped. I’d love that… and yet, something told me Ronnie wasn’t going to be jumping at the chance to hang out with me anytime soon. “Sure,” I said. “You just say where and when.” I was placating him… knowing that night out would never happen. But it was nice to dream.
I hung up with him and got back to my batter, my mind racing a mile a minute.
I had thirty days to make a decision. That meant Lana needed to find London… and fast. Before we hit thirty days. Because this all depended on where she was hiding. Never in a million years did I think it would take this long to find her. Two years andnothing. There’d been a few close calls. Someone had mentioned her on social media, or I’d thought I found her picture, but unfortunately, she had one of the most common last names in history. Murphy.
The first year, I thought I could find her myself and set about scouring Facebook for any whisper of where in the Northeast she may be hiding. After months of that, I gave up and hired Lana… my private investigator. It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth every penny if it meant I found London. The trick was… if I found her, there was a chance I’d need to move.
I sighed, drying my hands and shoving the application out of the way—but still in view. I needed to be confronted with that deadline daily. Needed the reminder to motivate me, keep me aware and on my toes.
I cracked the eggs, pushing my swimming thoughts to the side, and began beating them with the honey and cream of coconut. Baking. It was my therapy. The thing I could always rely on to calm my nerves.
Grabbing my pie plate, I created the paleo crust out of shredded coconut, coconut oil, and honey and put it in the oven to crisp up before pouring the filling in to bake as well. While that baked, I pulled out the croissant dough I had made that morning and added more cold butter, folding it carefully a few more times before putting it back into the fridge for tomorrow.
Just as I was about to sit down and relax, my phone rang again, causing Frost to tighten her claws against the flesh of my shoulder.
I winced and bent, allowing Frost to hop safely off my shoulders and run to her second favorite perch up on the windowsill. Tail flicking, she chirped at a bird that flew by as I grabbed the phone and saw Lana’s name blinking on the screen. I swiped right, my heart lurching into my throat as I answered. “Lana, hi.”
“I think I’ve got her, Lex.”
My eyes fell closed briefly and I willed away the swell of tears that took over me. “I’ve heard you say that before.”
“I know, I know. You need to hear me out this time. Can we meet?”
I glanced at the clock. The pie needed fifteen more minutes. Then I glanced down at myself, still in the same clothes from working out, dried sweat still clinging to my body. The pie might need fifteen minutes, but I needed at least thirty. “Give me an hour and I’ll meet you at Greico’s.”
I hung up and ran to the shower, shedding my body of my t-shirt as I went, trying desperately to ignore the pang of excitement in my chest. I’d let Lana get me excited like this before and it always turned out to be a false high. Which only made the crash that much worse.
“Harden your heart, Lex,” I instructed myself quietly.
But it didn’t matter how many times I said that. My heart wasn’t hard. It never would be.
* * *
I arrivedat the quaint Italian eatery an hour later. Walking up to the hostess, I looked around for Lana. It was rare that I arrived first. Not because I was typically late—but because Lana was meticulously punctual. Almost to an annoying degree. Then again, I was paying her good money to be meticulous, so I guess I couldn’t complain all that much.
Just as I was about to relish in triumph over finally arriving somewhere before her, I found her sitting at the furthest corner of the bar, nearly obstructed by the large wall of wine bottles.
I slid into the seat next to her and she leaned over giving me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Lex,” she said. “Sorry this is so last minute. But I really thought we needed to talk in person.”
My brows drew in tight between my eyes. “So… what’s different this time?”
Lana swallowed and even though we had grown to be good friends, she still had an air of professionalism about her. She always did when we talked business. It was like she was two different people—PI Lana and my friend Lana. And I knew I was dealing with PI Lana by the tension set in her jaw.
She drew in a breath and took a sip of her drink before talking. “I’ve been putting searches out for your ex-girlfriend—London Murphy. I have friends in the police department who I’ve asked to contact me if anyone is ever brought in—or if any bodies are found—with that name.” I sucked in a sharp breath. Was that what this was about? Had she found London’s body?
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, covering my mouth. “Is London… is shedead?”
She held out her hand and shook her head when she saw my face. “No. I was just trying to cover all bases in my search. But despite trying for a year, nothing had come of those searches and contacts.”
My heart sank even though I didn’t know why. Didn’t she say she hadgoodnews tonight? This. This feeling here. It was why I shouldn’t get my hopes up time and time again.
“Until now,” Lana said quietly and with a slender pink manicured finger, she slid a picture across the bar to me. “Is this London?”
